


Lessons

by TheWaitingFangirl



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Javier teaching you spanish, Language Kink, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, in a very not orthodox way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 06:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20830829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: “We’ve been through it, querida,” Javier pressed on, caressing the elegant arch of your throat, “do it for me.”His fingers brushed up and down, calloused and rough, but gentle on your skin. Gasping quietly, you pressed back on the solid warmth of his body. “It’s… cuello.”“You do me proud, corazón.” His fingers followed the line of your collarbone, fiddling with the soft fabric of your shirt and moving to untuck it from your dress skirt, “put on a little effort for me.”“Ah…,” you squirmed on his lap, trembling in anticipation, “camisa?”“That’s right,” Javier muttered, pulling your face to his and pressing a light kiss to your lips, not even near to enough of what you had wanted him to do, “you’re so precious, aren’t you? Mi amor.”





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I’m,,,, I have nothing to say for myself. The glossary will be at the notes!!

You closed your eyes, allowing your head to rest back on Javier’s shoulder behind you, shivering and blushing at the way he had wrapped his arms around you and pressed his chest to your back. His lips curled into a smile against the skin of your neck and he shuffled to press a kiss to it, moving to your collarbone when your breath hitched and you bunched a fist in the fabric of his shirt.

“Say it like you mean it, _mija_,” Javier whispered, nibbling at the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers played idly with the collar of your button up shirt, “have you forgotten your manners? Think I taught you better than that.”

Frowning in annoyance and because you couldn’t think straight, you turned your head to the side to allow the man better access, but he didn’t give into it. Javier’s breath caressed your skin, warm and feather-light, raising goosebumps at the soft touch of his nose to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“We’ve been through it, _querida_,” Javier pressed on, caressing the elegant arch of your throat, “do it for me.”

His fingers brushed up and down, calloused and rough, but gentle on your skin. Gasping quietly, you pressed back on the solid warmth of his body. “It’s… _cuello_.”

“You do me proud, _corazón_.” His fingers followed the line of your collarbone, fiddling with the soft fabric of your shirt and moving to untuck it from your dress skirt, “put on a little effort for me.”

“Ah…,” you squirmed on his lap, trembling in anticipation, “_camisa?_”

“That’s right,” Javier muttered, pulling your face to his and pressing a light kiss to your lips, not even near to enough of what you had wanted him to do, “you’re so precious, aren’t you? _Mi amor._”

“_SÍ, sí_,” you croaked back, trying to chase his lips for more, but he pulled away. “Javier…”

“Focus, focus,” he repeated for what had seemed to be the 200th time that night, hand moving up to the collar of your shirt to toy with its buttons, “will you indulge me just this once, _mija?_”

“God.” was your only answer, digging your fingers into the rough fabric of his trousers as your mind raced through all the words you had learned already—

“Probably not that one,” he chirped behind you, undoing the first few ones with a practiced twist of fingers. “Try again.”

“_Los… botones?_”

“Oh, we have a winner,” Javier smiled, hand slipping inside your shirt to help pull it down your shoulder still making easy work of your shirt until it hung loosely around your frame, “_mi corazón, mi vida… tan bonita_”

You gasped at his low words, limp in his arms as he fiddled with your body the way he played his guitar — confidently, surely and drawing out the most beautiful melodies. Javier’s mouth pressed to the sweet spot behind your ear, humming lowly at your quiet cries for him.

“Don’t be shy now, _mi tesoro_,” he murmured to you, palm now cupping the supple skin of your breast, lips curling into a smile at your surprised gasp, “tell me what you want.”

Squirming under his attention, you grasped at his knees around you with both hands as means to steady yourself when Javier rolled the peaked nub of your breast between his fingers, “Ah, Javi… _más, por favor_…”

“Ah, _chiquita_,” he chuckled, leaning forwards as to press his chin to your shoulder, “how sweet you sound when you sing for me like that.” Javier’s hands moved away from your chest, his warm breath fanning at the side of your neck as he pulled and bunched up the fabrics of your dress skirt, “_mi angélita, mi vida… canta para mi, sí_?”

This time you whimpered, spreading your legs at the touch of Javier’s bare hands to the soft skin of your thighs; his calloused fingers so incredibly warm it threatened the flame burning inside you to consume your body. “_Me gusta…_,” you frowned, chasing the words in your mind, “_cuando me tocas_— _cuando me hablas así.”_

“Oh?,” Javier now smiled, “tell me how, _chiquita, de qué manera, _hm?” His hands stilled on your thighs, fingers drumming playfully there, waiting expectantly for you to take your move.

“Ah… _así, Javi— así,_” you complained at his actions, your smaller hand taking a desperate hold of his and pushing it upwards to the junction of your legs and his fingers played with the opening of your knickers, humming sweetly at how you breath hitched at the slightest brush of it.

There was a pause, punctuated by a pliant and needy moan from you, turning to press your face more fully into the side of Javier’s neck. He all but smiled, wasting no time in caressing the cleft between your legs — and you could _feel_ the moisture pooled there seeping to his fingers, and you blushed, trying to close your legs because it was so embarrassing but—

“_Dios, mija_”, Javier breathed out, gathering more of the slick juice in his middle and forefinger before moving to the sensitive button of your clit, “you’re so wet.” You whimpered at his remark, letting out a particularly loud gasp — not enough to be caught, but not entirely safe neither —, but he quickly shushed you with a gentle kiss and a whisper of, “_tranquila, tranquila_”.

“I don’t want no teasing,” you groaned against his mouth, breathing uneven and shaky as the man settled for a lazy undulation of his fingers against your clit, “Javier, please…”

“Do better,” he demanded, applying more pressure to the bundle of nerves between your legs, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “do better, _mija_.”

“_Ya basta con los juegos_, Javier”, was all you had managed to gasp out, something you had learned to rely on like second nature after the long nights you had spent with Javier; but never had you so quickly remembered how the words sounded like. “Please, this isn’t—“

“_Ai ai, chiquita_,” Javier laughed, fingers slipping easily inside of you, two at a time, and he immediately curled them, “_tu cantas muy bien, mi corazón_. _No pares ahora_.”

You whimpered quietly, hips canting at his gentle and well practiced ministrations, and you could feel your lower lip trembling and the flushing of your face, but that didn’t stop you — the feeble flame from the start now a roaring wildfire that had you thrashing about in between his legs.

“_Tranquila_,” he whispered to the back of your ear, wrist moving the right way and fingers caressing your insides in a familiar motion, his shushing and soothing voice reminding you the way he’d calm down Boaz after a particularly intense shootout, “_tranquila mami, sí_?”

You backed against him, applying more pressure at the bulge between your legs with your backside, breathe wavering when you felt the defined outline of his cock still in his pants; and Javier all but growled, fingers digging shallow crescent moons into your inner thighs, which made you hiss. “Javi—“

“_Portate bien, mija_”, Javier muttered to you and when you thrashed about too much, he slapped your thigh; not too had, but it stung. “_Necesito golpear esa actitud tuya?_

“_Lo siento lo siento, Javi_—“

“That’s more like it, _corazón_,” he praised, pressing his thumb down on your clit and cupping your breast roughly; his breathing coming out ragged on the side of your ear, and that was the only sign that you were getting to him as much as he got to you. “Making me so proud, _mija_.”

“_Sí,_” you gasped out, the words tumbling down from your lips now, “_sí, Javi— por tu soy una joya—_“

Throwing your head back, you mewled quietly at the rhythmic rocking of Javier’s fingers in your pussy, distantly reminding yourself how good he had always been at it while the man whispered something in Spanish in your ear with a sweet voice; you couldn’t understand, not yet, but you were certain it was something crude and dirty, but oh, so good—

“Ja… Javier—,” you managed to stutter his name, hand flying to grasp at his wrist in the middle of your legs with raw desperation; only for Javier to shush you again, his tone soft and shushed even as you whimpered his name once more.

“_Tranquila, mi amor_,” Javier murmured, the roughness of his day-old beard rubbing nicely on your shoulder when he leaned forwards and the hand on your chest came up to wrap loosely around your neck,“ahora, _quieres orgasmar para mí_?”

With a broken sob — although careful to be quiet, as much as you wanted to scream in the throes of your passion —, you nodded frantically. Turning around to try and catch his lips in a fiery kiss, Javier indulged you, his thumb now rubbing a slow up-and-down motion on your clit as the fingers inside of you curled with each thrust in. You didn’t see it coming, because how could you, overwhelmed the way you were now, and your orgasm creeped upon you like a cougar — swiftly and quietly, your whimpers and cries being swallowed by Javier’s demanding kisses.

But he didn’t stop, even as you rode the final waves of your orgasm rocking your hips on his hand; even as you whimpered at the overstimulation his hand provided, still whispering sweet nothings to you when tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you tried to pull away.

“There, there,” Javier chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he pulled his fingers from within you, “open up for me, _mija_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mija – A term of endearment, shortening of “mi hija” (my daughter), but can and is used to refer to a younger girl/woman in a sweet manner  
Querida – Dear  
Cuello – Neck  
Corazón – Heart  
Camisa – Shirt  
Mi amor – My love  
Mi tesoro – My treasure  
Los botones – The buttons  
Mi corazón, mi vida… tan bonita – My heart, my life… so beautiful  
Más, por favor – More, please  
Me gusta cuando me tocas, cuando me hablas así – I like it when you touch me, when you talk to me like that  
De qué manera? – How so?  
Así, así – Like that/this  
Mi angélita, mi vida… canta para mi, sí? – My angel, my life… sing for me, yes?  
Dios – God  
Tranquila – Quiet, calm down  
Ya basta con los juegos – Enough with the games  
Tu cantas muy bien, mi corazón. No pares ahora – You sing so well, my heart. Don’t stop now.  
Mami – Sexy, babe  
Portate bien, mija. Necesito golpear esa actitud tuya? – Behave, girl. Do I have to beat that attitude of yours?  
Lo siento – I’m sorry  
Por tu soy una joya – For you I’m a jewel (someone or something deeply appreciated for the qualities possessed)  
Ahora, quieres orgasmar para mí? – Now, do you want to cum for me?


End file.
